


Out of the Abyss

by SorchaCahill



Series: Hawke's Nightmare [2]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, cheating death, screw fate, the Fade sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3979573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorchaCahill/pseuds/SorchaCahill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke had willingly sacrificed herself so that the Inquisitor and the others could live. Corypheus was her responsibility and she had done what was necessary to stop him. She had accepted her fate and her death. Death, however, seemed to have other plans in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Pain filled her entire being. It was a pain unlike any other she had ever experienced. It was not only physical, that she could have dealt with, it went beyond into her mental being. Sinuous threads of fear laced through her brain, preventing her from moving from the spot where she had fallen. Her memory was hazy, even her name was a ghost, but she remembered facing a demon unlike any other she had fought before. She remembered charging at it, slicing through it’s flesh, plunging her daggers deep in an attempt to give her companions time to escape.

And then a bright light blinded her and she fell into darkness.

She had stay behind and fought, fought something monstrous. She couldn’t fully remember the why behind it, just that it was important that she stop it.

Underneath the pain and the fear lay something deeper that tore at her soul. It was loss. So much loss. The weight of it was heavier than any physical pain she felt. There was a hole in her heart that she didn’t know how to fill much less how it got there.

Consciousness was tenuous, pulling her in and out like the tides. Each time she woke it lasted a little longer, but the pain always pulled her back down. She preferred to be under, it hurt less there. The hidden memories didn’t poke at her where she was enveloped in the dark warmth.

Dim light hovered on the edge of her vision, constant now, not retreating or advancing, but remaining a constant presence. The light was faintly blue and somewhat familiar and though she tried to block it out, it refused to go away.

“ _You are not supposed to be here_.”

The voice burst into her mind, loud and angry, intruding without mercy. It was demanding and held a tinge of superiority that grated against her nerves. It was familiar and pulled at her memory, yanking at a thread and refusing to let go.

“ _This place is for spirits. Living things do not belong here_.”

The first solid thought that did not involve pain rose in her mind was that she didn’t even know where here was.

“ _Get up. You must leave this place_.”

Go away, she thought. Just leave me be.

A hand, surprisingly solid, gripped her shoulder and shook it. The action caused ripples of pain throughout her body, causing her to scream. Her scream echoed around her, seeming to last forever, but it paled to what her body was experiencing. Her eyes finally opened as full awareness came rushing back to her she realized that several bones were broken and that she lay in a pool of blood. It was red and dark and wet and it spread out around her. Was it all hers?

She rolled onto her side, bracing her arm against her stomach. Through her armor she could feel the bones shifting there. Something pierced her side, sending jolts of pain through her at the slightest movement and she wished to fall into oblivion again.

“ _Get up, human. I do not wish to be here any longer and nor should you_.”

“ _You should not push her, living things are frail_.”

“ _Do not speak to me of how frail the living are. I know all too well their frailties_.”

“ _You let your time with them warp your nature, my friend_.”

“ _Which proves my point, living beings bring nothing but havoc and destruction with them,_ ” the voice paused, anger vibrating through it. “ _Chaos followed this one wherever she went. It would perhaps be better for all if we let her die._ ”

“You will not touch her!” shouted another voice, a voice that, despite it’s melodic tone was hard as iron. “Hawke did more to help the people around her, whereas you only made things worse.”

“ _Peace, mage, no harm will come to your friend,_ ” said the softer, kinder voice.

“Then help me get her home. I assume that is why you brought me here. I mean, brought me here in my dreams. I’m not really here here,” the new voice babbled, sounding vaguely familiar.

Hawke? Who was Hawke? Was that her? Why couldn’t she remember?

“ _The rift here is closed. We will have to find another to send her through_ ,” said the soft voice. The voice was warm and gentle, like a caress from a loved one. It soothed the frayed nerves that spread throughout her body, causing the pain to lessen some.

“ _There are other rifts to choose from. The sooner she leaves, the better._ ”

“ _She cannot travel as she is, Justice, she needs healing_.”

“ _Be quick with it. We cannot linger here. That demon will return._ ”

Justice? Why did she know that name? She tried to sit up but her limbs wouldn't cooperate. Sweat beaded on her skin as she tried to control her breathing, to control the pain.

“Oh, Hawke, what has happened to you?” asked the new voice. She heard footsteps coming closer and a light touch on her forehead. She forced her eyes open to see a face hovering above her. Wide green eyes, watery with unshed tears, looked down at her. Her black hair was cropped short with several braids woven through it. She knew this person, didn’t she?

“ _She is badly injured but she did it to save others. It was a noble thing your friend did._ ”

“That’s Hawke. She’s always risking her life for others and asks for so little in return. Oh, Hawke, why didn’t you ask for help? I would have come with you.”

“ _A blood mage physically in the Fade? And here I thought you couldn’t be more foolish._ ”

“At least my nature hasn't been warped. I know who I am, Justice. Or should I call you Vengeance?”

“ _Quiet, both of you. I need to concentrate_.”

“ _Work quickly, Compassion. With a living being still in the Fade, the Nightmare will soon regain strength. We must be gone before it returns_.”

“You can heal her, right? I've never seen her this hurt before. Not even after she fought the Arishok.”

“ _Do not worry, little elf mage, I will do what I can._ ”

“It’ll be okay, Hawke. We’ll get you out of here. I promise. We’ll get you home.” A small hand slid into hers, another placed over it. She could feel strength flowing into her at the touch, the energy numbing the pain.

Home. Yes. She wanted to go home.

A hand touched her forehead with another pressing lightly against her chest. She opened her eyes to see a warm yellow light hovering above it. Its shape was vaguely human, with robes flowing gently around it. Where its hands touched her body heat seeped in, warming her and making her realize just how cold she had been.

“ _Hold her steady, little elf, this will not be pleasant for her._ ”

No, she thought, I feel fine. For the first time since she had awoken pain didn’t wrack her entire body and soul. The warmth on her head and chest increased steadily, still soothing even as it pushed into the broken parts of her body.

Sinuous threads of heat wrapped around her broken bones and torn muscles, gently prodding each wound until all were surrounded. She could feel them closing around her, wrapping themselves firmly around her. This is nice, she thought. It’s so nice to finally be warm.

She should have known it wouldn't last. She should have known that the feeling of warmth and safety was a trap. She should have been prepared for it but she wasn’t. When those warm tendrils suddenly grew blazing hot and tightened their grip she wasn't prepared for the pain. Her screams erupted from her throat and were absorbed into the darkness as she fell once again into the abyss.

~~~

Something poked at her nose. It wasn't unpleasant or painful, just mildly annoying. The ground was soft under her and the air smelled dewy and of rain drenched flowers. She could hear bird song in the distance and a horse wickering nearby.

She kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep. Perhaps if she pretended a bit longer the offender would stop poking at her.

It poked her nose again, this time accompanied by a soft giggle. It sounded like sunlight, all shiny and warm.

“Found you!”

Her lips curved at the sound of the voice. So innocent, so pure. Just the sound of it brought her happiness.

“I knew I’d find you. I told him I could find you!”

Finally forcing her eyes open she saw blue sky above her but twisted in a way that the sky shouldn’t be. The land around her the same feel but the owner of the voice was as bright and wonderful as the voice itself.

The little girl leaned in closer, laying her hand gently on her cheek. “I knew I’d find you,” she whispered again. “But you haveta get up. You haveta come home. We’re all waiting for you.”

Curly auburn hair sprang around the girl’s face, surrounding it like a halo but it was the eyes that pulled her in. They were a brilliant blue and full of life.

She knew this face.

She reached out her hand, a finger gently trailing down the curve of the child’s face. A wide grin broke out across the girl’s face and she felt something click in her brain.

“Meghan?”

“Yes Momma?”

And just like that, with those two words everything came back. She, Éowyn Hawke, no, it was Éowyn Vael now, she had sacrificed herself, everything so that the Inquisitor could live and defeat Corypheus.

“I should be dead,” she murmured, her fingers still on her daughter’s face.

“But you’re not. I _told_ Poppa you weren't,” Meghan Vael said proudly, her grin widening.

_Sebastian. Oh no._

“He’s so sad Momma but he’ll be happy soon once he knows that I found you. So that’s why you haveta get up. You haveta get up so you can get home.”

Éowyn tried to sit up, grimacing as her body protested, loudly. She could taste blood in her mouth and now that she was more alert she remembered where she was. She was still in the blasted Fade.

“I don’t know if I can, baby.”

“Sure you can. Justice and Compassion will help you. I told them to.”

“You told them… Meghan, how are you here like this?” Éowyn asked carefully.

The child just shrugged. “Dunno. All I knew was that you were hurt and I had to find you. Merrill helped too,” she paused, her lip beginning to quiver. “Did I do a bad thing?”

Ignoring the pain, Éowyn pulled her daughter into her arms, stroking her hand over her hair. “No, baby, you didn’t do a bad thing. Just… be careful. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Of course.”

“Promise me, Meghan.” Éowyn pushed her daughter slightly away, her hands cupping that tiny face.

“I promise, Momma,” Meghan said solemnly. She then turned her head, looking behind her as if something had caught her attention. “I haveta go now. I’ll tell Poppa you’re okay, that you’re coming home.”

“Meghan,” Éowyn started, not sure how she could tell her daughter that she didn’t know how she was going to be able to accomplish that. She was still in the Fade, _physically_ in the Fade. As if guessing what her mother was trying to say, Meghan turned back, a brilliant smile on her face.

“Don’t worry, Momma. You’ll find a way. I _know_ you will.”

Before Éowyn could stop her, Meghan backed away and ran across the field. Absently she noticed that her daughter was barefoot. How many times had they told her to wear something on her feet if she was going to be running around? Too many times.

Éowyn slowly pushed herself up to her feet, moving carefully as her legs weren't quite steady under her yet. As she gained her full height, the sunny field faded away revealing the awful hell that was this corner of the Fade. Three figures came into focus. A man, judging by his size, in a full suit of armor including a helmet with the visor pulled down, hiding his face. A woman-like figure stood next to him, robes of warm yellow floating around her in a silent breeze. And next to her was a short, dark-haired elf whose hands were twisted around each other as worry etched across her face.

“Merrill?”

“Oh, Hawke, I’m so glad you’re awake!” Unable to restrain herself, the elf flung herself into Éowyn’s arms, squeezing her tightly. Even though she knew Merrill wasn’t here physically in the Fade she felt solid enough to knock the wind briefly out of her.

“I’m not a Hawke anymore, Merrill.”

“Don’t be silly. You’ll always be Hawke to me.” Merrill pulled back, her green eyes watery as she released a sigh of relief. “I was so worried you weren’t going to wake up. Compassion said that you just needed a little sleep but I wasn’t sure. Sleeping in the Fade can’t be a good thing I would think. If you’re already in the Fade when you’re sleeping, where do you go when you sleep here? Is there another level? And I’m babbling. Just ignore me. I’m just so happy you’re alive. When Varric sent word…”

“You spoke to Varric?” A not-so-small twinge rang through her. She had let Varric go through the rift without even saying goodbye. She couldn’t imagine that her old friend had been too happy about that.

“Oh, no. He sent a raven. It came to the clan. They’re so clever, ravens that is. How do they find the person the letter is meant for? I wish I could talk to them to find out. And there I go babbling again.” Merrill closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath before opening them again. “He said in the letter what you did at Adamant. How you stayed behind so that everyone else could escape. That was very brave, Hawke. Stupid, but very brave.”

“Yeah, well, that’s me, always doing the stupid brave thing.”

“He said in the letter how he was sorry that he couldn’t tell me in person but he felt it was more important to get to Starkhaven first before word made it to Sebastian.”

“Varric went to tell Sebastian himself? Talk about doing an incredibly stupid brave thing.”

“Varric loves you and he knows how much you love Sebastian. He said it was only right that he tell him in person.”

Éowyn felt her heart twist. Knowing Sebastian as she did, she knew the news of her death would shatter him, but he would put it all behind a wall and keep his sorrow to himself. After of course he took some his anger out on Varric. Sebastian hadn’t been happy when she had told him the news Varric had sent her about Corypheus and she knew that he would blame Varric for her death.

She also knew that Sebastian would immediately regret letting his anger get the better of him and apologize. Just as she knew that Varric would believe that he deserved that anger.

“ _Enough. We have lingered her long enough. We must leave and find another rift_.”

Éowyn looked over at the armored knight, her eyes narrowing. She thought that before it had been a trick of her mind, that the pain wracking her body had distorted what she had heard. Now however, she heard the voice clearly and recognized it.

“How are you here? You died in Kirkwall,” she said flatly.

“ _A spirit cannot die. It merely changes form_.”

“Into a demon you mean.”

“ _I am no demon, human!_ ”

“What do you call a being that twists a person’s needs and desires into something ugly?”

“ _I did no such thing. It is living beings such as yourself that…_ ”

“ _Peace, both of you. Justice is right that we cannot linger here any longer. The Nightmare will be looking for you once it realizes that you are still alive_.”

“What are you?” Éowyn demanded, eyeing the woman-shaped spirit.

“It is a spirit of Compassion, Hawke. It helped to heal you.”

Éowyn eyed the spirit, if it was indeed a spirit, carefully. It emanated the same aura as the one who had imitated the Divine but that didn’t mean that it didn’t have another agenda.

“ _I can sense your doubt and I cannot blame you for that. You have suffered much at the hands of demons and blood magic but all I want to do is help you get home_.”

“And just how can you do that? I don’t have an anchor like the Inquisitor to get me through a rift. I don’t know that shoving me through one will work.”

“Oh but Hawke, you have to try. You just have to,” Merrill pleaded. “If anyone can, other than the Inquisitor that is, walk out of the Fade it’s you. I can help you.”

“Merrill, it’s dangerous for you here.”

“Is it anymore dangerous for me than it is for you? You need someone to keep you grounded to the living world. I can do that,” she said, her tone firm.

“We don’t know how long I’ll be stuck here or even if I can get out. It’s too dangerous for you to do this alone.”

“Who said I’ll be doing this alone? There are others who would be more than willing to help.”

“No, I’m not putting anyone else at risk.”

“It’s not like you can stop us, Hawke. We’re going to help you no matter what you say.” Merrill lifted her chin, showing the spine she had developed over her years spent in Kirkwall. Éowyn sighed, knowing that the mage was serious but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

Drumming her fingers on her thigh, Éowyn thought furiously, trying to figure out her options and there weren't many. Now that she was alert she could hear the whispers of the Fade, invisible voices calling to her. Staying here was not an option.

“Merrill, how far is your clan from Starkhaven?”

“Oh, I’m not sure really. We are currently north of the Vimmarks. It’s not…safe around Kirkwall right now. For elves or mages.”

“Can you convince your clan to go to Starkhaven? Sebastian needs to know that Meghan’s dreams aren't just dreams. Also, I think my daughter may be a mage.”

“Oh, Hawke, I don’t know what you expect me to do. I don’t know that Sebastian likes me very much and if I tell him that...”

“Merrill,” Éowyn said, putting her hands on the elf’s shoulders. “I trust you and Sebastian knows that. He’ll listen to you.”

“But what about Bethany?”

“Bethany’s farther away from Starkhaven than you are and she doesn't know what’s going on. Ever since the Wardens started disappearing I had Aveline take her as far away from Orlais as possible. Even I don’t know where she is right now,” Éowyn trailed off, thinking about that. Unless Varric had been able to track Bethany down, her sister had no idea what had happened.

“I’m sure that Varric got a message to Aveline and she let Bethany know. Aveline would do that.”

“Yes she would, but--.” A wailing screech interrupted what Éowyn had been about to say. Looking up into the false sky she saw the light being eaten up by something dark, its appetite voracious as it rushed across the broken landscape. Staring at it was like looking into an abyss, dark and unending. Sweat trickled down Éowyn’s spine as she took one step back, then two.

“It’s time to go. Merrill, you should leave too.”

“No, I’ll stay and hold them back. It’s more important for you to get away.”

“Merrill, I can’t let you do that. You die in here, you’ll become tranquil. I won’t be responsible for that.”

“I think it’s time you let others be responsible for their actions, Hawke. I can do this.”

“Merrill-.”

Justice grabbed her arm and dragged her away. Power vibrated from it, electrifying her skin. “ _Enough talk, we must go._ ”

Éowyn stumbled after him, her body still not responding to her commands as it normally did. Looking back she saw Merrill casting protection spells around herself, spreading them wide to cover their escape. Éowyn prayed that her friend wouldn't make the same sacrifice that she herself had. She couldn’t stand to lose another friend.

Justice set a brutal pace and she was barely able to keep up. She wouldn't have been able to if Compassion hadn’t been right next to her, holding her up. Éowyn clutched her right arm to her chest. The healing spell Compassion had cast had been more like a bandage than a cure as each step she took sent spirals of pain throughout her body but she didn’t dare slow down. It was a small chance, but she just might be able to get out of this nightmare; she would push herself beyond her limits to escape the Fade.

She would do whatever it took to see her family again.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t easy running over a landscape where the very ground itself seemed to change with every step you took. Being in the Fade in dreams was tricky enough, but being there physically? It was hard sometimes to remember which way was up and which was down. For spirits like Justice and Compassion they could traverse the expanse with little to no effort but seeing as Éowyn was a physical being and not incorporeal she had a bit more trouble.

Despite her exhaustion and pain however she was well motivated to keep moving. She could hear the Nightmare behind her, it’s howls made her skin crawl but she could also hear Merrill swearing at it in Dalish, using words she didn't know the elf knew, much less would say. That she was still willing to fight for Éowyn even after she made her destroy the Eluvian said a lot about Merrill’s character and her loyalty. Éowyn hoped that she would be able to one day repay her.

“ _Quickly, this way_ ,” Compassion urged, pulling Éowyn down a curving path. The air seemed lighter the further down they went, thinner, as if the molecules themselves were separating. They rounded a corner and Éowyn was brought up short when she saw the dead end. The small alcove was dark but for one corner where the wall seemed to shimmer. Justice stood to the side as if on guard while Compassion pulled her forward toward the shimmer. Éowyn tried to dig her heels in and stop the spirit, but Compassion was too strong and pulled her through the shimmering portal. Something like frozen water coated her as she passed through, leaving her shivering when they exited on the other side. She barely had time to catch her breath before Justice came through behind them. It waved it's hand over the portal and Éowyn watched as it dulled and faded until it matched the rest of the wall.

“What was that? Where are we?”

“ _It’s a portal that allows us to travel to different parts of the Fade quickly. It was the easiest and quickest way to escape the Nightmare_.” Compassion paused, surveying the area around them. “ _It would appear that it’s brought us to an area where elves have left their imprint_.”

“Left their imprint? What does that mean?” Éowyn demanded. Her head was pounding. It was too much, too fast and every minute she was here she could feel her humanity leaching out of her. People weren’t meant to walk physically in the Fade. Bríghid Trevelyan could but she had the Mark; Éowyn had no such protection.

“ _The Fade takes on aspects of the physical world, imitates it. Wherever the Veil is thin, bits of the physical world seep in and the Fade incorporates it into itself_.”

“I thought the Fade was built of the dreams of those who enter.”

“ _That is one way. This is another. However, since the Breach occurred, more of the physical world is bleeding in_ ,” Compassion told her.

Éowyn nodded, remembering the ocean they had seen just before encountering the Nightmare in its full form. Chewing her bottom lip, she looked around them. It was still the Fade, but Compassion was right: the physical world was entering the Fade. She could smell fresh dirt and grass and she shouldn’t be able to. The rifts were tearing the world apart; she could only pray that the Inquisition would be able to defeat Corypheus and seal the rifts before it was too late.

“How long do we have before the Nightmare catches up with us?”

Compassion paused, tilting its head to the side as if listening to something. Justice stood several paces away, its hand gripped on the pommel of its sword, ready for action.

“ _It is hard to say. Nothing is certain in the Fade. It could be hours or it could be minutes but one thing is certain: we must get you out of here as soon as possible._ ”

Éowyn wasn’t about to argue with that. “So how do you propose we get me out of here? Don’t suppose you can just rip a hole right here and push me through.”

“ _No, neither spirits nor demons are capable of doing so. We must find one already in existence and try to get you through_.”

“Try to get me through? You don’t know if this will work.”

“ _There are no other options, human. It’s this or you die here_.”

“Gee, thanks Justice. Good to know that you haven’t changed at all.” Despite the snark, Éowyn chewed on her lower lip, worry threading through her. “So where do we go?”

“ _All spirits and demons in the Fade can sense the rifts, demons more so because they want to cross over into your realm. There is one not far_ ,” Compassion told her.

“Okay then, let’s go find a rift.”

Justice led the way forward, leading them through the twists and turns of the Fade. The longer she was here the more her head hurt and it was from more than just the injuries she had sustained when fighting the Nightmare. There was a haze that clouded everything, not unlike the morning after a round of drinks at The Hanged Man, but different at the same time. It was almost like something was rewriting her brain.

Éowyn shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. She needed to be sharp and ready for anything.

It was anyone’s guess as to how long they had been walking but with each step she could feel her energy waning. Whatever Compassion had done to heal her was wearing off. Her stomach growled and Éowyn realized that she hadn’t had anything to eat since before they stormed Adamant and she had no idea how long ago that was.

As they crested a hill Éowyn noticed a faint green glow nestled in the valley below them. It shimmered like a jewel, beckoning them forward. Éowyn ran forward a half dozen steps before sliding to a stop. Surrounding the rift was a sea of demons, all vying for entrance into the rift. The last time she had seen this many demons in one place had been in Kirkwall just after Anders had blown up the Chantry and everything had fallen apart.

“I don’t suppose there is another rift nearby.”

“ _No. This is the closest one and your only chance to escape the Fade. It is this or you die here._ ”

“You really know how to motivate a person, don’t you Justice.” Éowyn stared down into the valley. There were maybe thirty demons down there and all she had were two spirits and her bare hands to fight them off. She had lost her daggers after the fight with the Nightmare and felt naked without them. She turned to the two spirits, fear clutching in her stomach. “Just how do you propose we get through that hoard? I seriously doubt a snarky remark is going to scare them away. I usually stick them with the pointy end of a dagger.” Éowyn pulled two small knives out from her gauntlets. “This is all I have. Barely more than a couple of butter knives.”

“ _That is better than nothing. We will clear a path for you, all you need to do is keep moving and stick close to us._ ”

Éowyn eyed Justice carefully. It was odd to see it in its real form as opposed to being filtered through Anders. Theirs had always been a contentious relationship. The merge between it and Anders had corrupted them both.

“Why are you helping me, Justice?” she asked again. “You have never liked me.”

The spirit paused before turning to face her, its eyes obscured by its helmet. “ _Because this is what Anders would have wanted. He cared deeply for you and would not want you to die here._ ”

Éowyn didn’t know how to respond to that. Even three years later she remembered that day in Lowtown vividly. Watching, horrified, as the Chantry exploded and then listening as Anders raged about how this was the only way to effect change. She had known that he was up to something but never would she have guessed that he would do something like that. Hundreds of innocent people had died that day, in both the Chantry and on the streets. Blood ran freely in Kirkwall that day and she had been unable to do anything to stop it.

She remembered the wild look in Anders' eyes. She remembered seeing the madness within and mourning the loss of her friend, a friend she had thought she had known. She remember being paralyzed, not knowing what to do. Sebastian was calling for his immediate death with Fenris and Aveline agreeing with him while the others bickered about alternative options. She had looked at her friend, not knowing what to do. Her dagger had been in her hand and yet she hesitated.

Then Anders had taken the decision from her by grabbing her hand and impaling himself on her blade. His blood spilled over her hands as he slumped to the ground, the light fading from his eyes.

How could a man who was willing to kill hundreds care what happened to her? It made no sense but then little from her years in Kirkwall made sense.

“Alright, let’s see if we can get me through the Rift. Here’s hoping I don’t end up in some bog on the other side.”

“ _We will hold off as many as we can but it is most likely that some will make it through the rift with you. I suggest you run rather than fight_.”

“Gee, thanks for the advice, Justice. Maybe I’ll find a stick or something I can beat them off with.”

“ _You have shown a remarkable capacity for surviving impossible situations. I have no doubt this time will be any different_.”

Éowyn held Justice’s gaze for a moment before turning it back to the demon horde. Taking a deep breath she steadied herself. “Alright, let’s do this.”

True to their word, Justice and Compassion formed a shield around her, keeping the demons away. The stench was unbelievable. It was like being in the undercity of Kirkwall where all the city’s garbage and other things not worth thinking about went. The smell here was similar but with more sulfur.

Éowyn held both knives in a reverse grip, ready to slash and stab at any demon that was able to break through. And some did get through despite the two spirits’ best efforts. Éowyn fought them as best she could, seeking the demons’ most vulnerable points. Claws dug through her armor, drawing blood but she struck back, felling each demon that came at her.

The Rift cast a sickly green light across the area. Éowyn forged forward, praying with a fervor she never had before that Justice and Compassion were correct in that she would be able to pass through the Rift. She shoved her doubts down, refusing to let those negative thoughts get in the way. It would work. It had to work.

They were maybe ten feet from the Rift when the ground shook underneath, sending her face-first into the dirt. One of her knives fell from her hand and scittered across the ground, landing well out of reach. Something screeched behind her, the noise filling the air. Éowyn curled into a ball, covering her ears with her hands in an attempt to block out the noise. She could feel a warm liquid seep through her fingers as the screeching continued and she let out a scream of her own.

The Nightmare had caught up with them.

Something grabbed her roughly by the arm and hauled her to her feet.

“ _Now is not the time to falter, human. The Nightmare’s scream will bring more demons but it has also temporarily stunned the ones here. Now is the time to get through the Rift._ ”

Éowyn stumbled forward, Justice supporting her as they moved closer to the Rift. She almost fell again when the Nightmare let out another screech, this time closer, but Justice kept her on her feet, almost dragging her forward. Compassion stood guard on her other side, knocking away any demons that had shaken off the Nightmare’s stun.

“ _Take her_ ,” Justice ordered, nearly shoving her into Compassion’s arms. “ _I will hold them back. Get her through the Rift._ ”

Éowyn watched through bleary eyes as Justice faced off the growing horde of demons. Its sword shone brightly in the gloomy darkness of this area of the Fade, the blue light seeming to hold back the lesser demons. On the ridge above them she could see the Nightmare coming steadily toward them. Éowyn had to swallow the gorge of bile that rose in her throat as fear crept into her bones.

Images flashed through her mind. Images filled with blood and bodies, flashing by so quickly that she almost couldn’t comprehend them but they were so vivid they seared into her brain.

Varric slumped against a wall, a red glow burning through him as the red lyrium ate at his soul.

Isabela cowering in a darkened corner, blood dripping from her face as a Ben-Hassrath re-educator stood over her.

Fenris back under Danarius’s thumb, his head bowed in submission, standing ready to do his master’s bidding.

Merrill standing in front of the Eluvian, her body covered in the blood of those she had slain to gain more power.

Aveline forced to stand by, helpless, as corruption and greed ruined everything she stood for.

Anders staring blankly at her with the dispassionate stare of the Tranquil.

Bethany’s face growing grey and sallow as the darkspawn taint overtook her, her eyes now blind.

Sebastian sitting on the Starkhaven throne, his face unrecognizable and void of compassion as he ruthlessly ordered the deaths of those who stood in his way, meting out justice with an iron fist.

The face of her daughter fading and then disappearing like smoke, as if she had never been.

Herself, standing alone in a courtyard filled with burning pyres, each holding the body of someone she loved.

A thin cry escaped from her lips as each image grew brighter and sharper. Despair filled her, paralyzed her to the point where she was numb. Every move she had made, every decision taken had led to misery and now she was alone.

Golden light flooded her vision, shredding the Nightmare’s hold on her. Éowyn would have collapsed under the weight of what the Nightmare had shown her if Compassion hadn’t been holding her up.

“ _It shows you lies, none of what you saw was real. Come, it’s time for you to leave this place._ ”

Éowyn dug down, pulling at the strands of strength the Nightmare had attempted to severe. Looking up at the Rift, she wove those strands together, forging them into a shield that would get her through this.

“I don’t suppose you know what lies on the other side, do you?”

“ _I am afraid not._ ” The spirit turned and smiled at her. “ _But I have no doubt that you will find your way home_.”

Before Éowyn could respond, Compassion lifted her up and pulled her toward the Rift. She clung to Compassion’s hand as they rose, Éowyn holding her breath as they closed in on the Rift. Below her she could see Justice fighting off the demons. They circled around the spirit, dozens of them and more pouring over the ridge and moving steadily forward among them was the Nightmare. With more eyes and legs than any creature, living or spirit, had a right to have, Éowyn knew that she would be dreaming of this creature for decades to come.

And suddenly they were there, hovering at the edge of the Rift. Éowyn tried to see what lay on the other side but it was like looking through a muddy glass, the images all opaque and blurry with no real form.

“ _Once on the other side you must not stop. Justice and I will hold off the demons but it is safe to say that some will get through. We will give you as much time as we have strength to fight._ ”

“You’re going to fight all of them. That’s suicide, I can’t let you do that.”

Compassion smiled. “ _And yet you have no choice in the matter. May the Maker guide your steps_.”

Before Éowyn could utter further protest, Compassion pushed her through the Rift. Her skin tingled as she passed through and then she was falling. It was fortunately a short drop but it was enough of one to make her wonder if she had escaped the Fade only to crash into the ground with all her bones pulverized by the landing.

She landed on her back with water enclosing around her, its icy touch freezing her already brittle body. Éowyn broke through the surface, gasping first from the cold and then from the stench. Pushing her hair from her eyes she looked around, seeing nothing but reeds and murky water surrounding her. Above her the Rift still glowed. If she listened carefully she thought she could hear the demons howling, furious at her escape.

Lightning rippled across the sky, fracturing the black clouds above her as rain poured mercilessly from the sky. Biting back an oath Éowyn rose to her feet and tried to get a handle on where she was. There was no sun to guide by, no familiar landmarks near or far that she recognized. Nothing looked familiar. It was like the Rift had spat her out into the most backwater area of Thedas.

“Well, isn't this just fucking perfect. Couldn't have spit me out somewhere warm could you? Just had to be some stinking bog, didn’t it? Just had to open your mouth and tempt fate, didn't you, dumbass.” Éowyn turned in a small circle, trying, and failing to gain her bearings. “Note to self for future reference: get a compass and never let it out of your sight.”

Picking a direction she could only guess at where it would lead her, she limped forward, steadily moving away from the Rift. Mud sucked at her boots and more than once she fell face first into the water. After the third time she fell she forced herself to go slower. After the fifth time she tasted blood on her lip after smacking it on something under the water and knew that she didn’t have much left in her to go much further. She had to find some sort of shelter and pray that she was far enough away from the Rift that she would be relatively safe from a demon attack.

The land around her was sparse, filled with only cloying weeds and scraggly trees and all of it wrapped up in a thick fog. Between the rain and fog her range of vision was down to maybe twenty yards making what was already a tough walk that much harder. Éowyn kept trudging slowly forward, praying that luck would be with her and something would turn up.

Her feet felt like frozen blocks of ice as she made her way through the bog. She clenched her jaw in an attempt to keep her teeth from chattering and concentrated on putting one step in front of another.

Maker she was tired, more tired than she had ever been. Éowyn stumbled again but was miraculously able to maintain her footing when she flung out an arm to brace her fall when her palm struck something hard.

Opening eyes she hadn’t realized had closed, Éowyn saw a blackened out hollow of a tree. The trunk was split open like a rotten melon, it’s insides hollowed out and charred black. Huge roots spidered out from it’s base and in her delirious state of mind she wondered if the tree could pull up those roots and move itself to another spot just in case it wanted a better view.

Sliding her hand along the edge, Éowyn crawled into the hollowed out tree. Once inside she brought her knees to her chest, curling into a ball to conserve as much heat as possible.

Bringing her hand up to her throat, she dug under her armor for the chain hanging around her neck. She carefully pulled it out and clutched the locket in her hand, holding it close like a protective talisman. It was just a tiny thing but it connected her to her home, to her family.

“I’m coming home,” she whispered. “I’m coming home.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Are you going to sleep the day away then? Tis too beautiful a day to be spending it abed.”

Éowyn cracked an eye open, briefly letting light hit her eyes before closing them again. It was too early to be awake. She was certain of it.

“Come now, lass. We’ve got things to be doing.”

In response to the voice Éowyn shoved her head under her pillow to block it out. Waking up and getting out of bed seemed like a ridiculous idea. Especially so early in the morning. Only crazy people woke this early on purpose.

A hand skimmed up her arm, the palm rough with calluses but the touch was warm and gentle. A finger brushed a lock of her hair across her shoulder, tracing the curve of her spine down. Éowyn shivered involuntarily at the touch but kept her head under the pillow. She wasn’t going to give in.

“Well then, if you’re not wanting to get out of bed, I can think of other activities to do.” At Éowyn’s sleepy grunt, he chuckled. “Don’t worry lass, you’ll not have to do a thing. You just lie there and pretend to sleep.”

Soft lips pressed against the top of her spine, his warm breath caressing her skin. His hand lay at her hip, his thumb brushing over it softly. Despite her intention to go back to sleep Éowyn couldn’t stop her response to him. She never could.

His lips continued to trail down her spine, stopping just at the base before roaming over to her hip, lightly nipping the skin there. Éowyn yelped at the touch only to hear his soft chuckle.

“I’m sorry my dear, did I wake you?”

“You’re an ass, Sebastian. Let me sleep.”

His hot breath steamed over her skin as he chuckled again, moving his way back up her spine.

“Sleep is overrated my dear.” At Éowyn’s undignified snort  he nipped the side of her neck lightly. “There are so many things that need doing.”

“Is annoying your wife one of them?”

“I try never to annoy my wife. She usually has sharp daggers on her most of the time. I find that I like my skin unpunctured.”

“Well, most people do,” she told him as an unexpected shiver ran through her that had nothing to do with Sebastian’s lips on her skin. She suddenly felt cold despite having Sebastian nearly wrapped around her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wake up? You should really wake up,” he said, his voice curling over her but sounding distant somehow, as if it were muffled. Éowyn pulled her head out from under the pillow and rolled so that she could look at him. Sunlight struck his auburn hair, the morning light making it seem like it glowed. She liked him all mussy like this, with his hair in disarray and a night’s worth of stubble on his chin. It was an image she far preferred to the stuffy Chantry brother one he wore when they had first met.

“Ah, she wakes. Perhaps the day is not lost after all.”

Éowyn reached up and pushed an errant lock of hair out of his eyes, letting her fingers stroke down the side of his face. She loved this face and the man even more. She wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her days with him.

She shivered again, this time deeper. Cold leached into her as she felt her muscles tense. Éowyn stared up at Sebastian, wondering how she could feel so cold when he felt so warm. Something wasn’t right.

“Sebastian?”

“Yes, love?”

Fog started to cloud her mind, making it fuzzy. Sebastian’s face blurred above her. Éowyn tried to shake it off but the fog clung. The room seemed to shift, the walls turning black and damp.

“Where am I?”

“You’re lost sweetheart, that’s why you need to wake up. You need to wake up.”

 _Lost,_ she thought. _How can I be lost? I’m home._

“You’re not home, Éowyn. You have miles to go yet before you get home and to do that you need to wake up. Wake up now.”

Éowyn shot out of sleep, banging her head against the inside of the hollowed-out tree she had taken sanctuary in.

“Fuck me,” she growled, prodding gently at her forehead and swore again when it came away bloody. The shift between dreaming and waking had been so sudden that it made her head hurt.

Dammit, it had felt so real, lying there like that in their bed. She could still feel his touch, still smell his scent and she wanted them back. Wanted them back so bad at that moment that she would have done anything to get it.

Shaking off the dream, forcing those unproductive thoughts down, she crawled out of the tree. The land around her wasn’t much improved by daylight. It was still grey mottled with brown and dull green. It had stopped raining sometime while she had slept but the damp still hung in the air. It felt… it felt like Ferelden. The stink and the damp was uniquely Ferelden.

Could she have travelled so far in the Fade? It was at minimum an eighteen day ride from the Western Approach to the Frostbacks and even more to Ferelden proper.

“Please Maker, don’t let me be in the Fallow Mire. Anywhere but that shithole.”

Taking a deep breath, Éowyn inhaled and closed her eyes, trying to settle her mind. Her nose twitched. Was that salt water air she smelled?

Feeling calmer, Éowyn opened her eyes. Though clouds still filled the sky, they could not completely block out the sun. It hovered above the horizon, working steadily at burning off the morning fog. Listening carefully she could hear birds chirping in the distance. She could see more trees, some alone like the one she stood next to, others clumped together as if they believed there was strength in numbers. No matter what direction she looked in, it was all nature. There were no signs of civilization, whether it be human, elven, or dwarf, there was nothing.

Putting the sun on her right side, Éowyn struck forth, figuring that if she was actually in Ferelden she was bound to reach the shore soon. And if she wasn’t, well, she’d figure something out.

~~~

It was hard to tell how long she had been walking. With the clouds still occluding the sun it was difficult to get a fix on where exactly it was. She had never really been all that good at orienteering even when she had a map and compass and now she had neither. It didn’t help the fact that for the last fourteen years she had spent most of her time in a city.

The landscape changed little. Perhaps it got a bit drier the farther she went but otherwise it remained the same with boggy bits of brackish water and clumps of weeds and other vegetation breaking up the land. Still no signs of civilization and Éowyn was beginning to wonder if during her time in the Fade if the war hadn’t wiped all traces of people from Thedas.

With that cheery thought she pushed forward, ignoring the permanent chill that had set in her bones.

She let her mind wander as she walked. A stupid thing to do when one didn’t know where one was but between her exhaustion and hunger it was easy to do. She found herself wondering how much time had passed in the real world while she had been in the Fade. Did Sebastian know what had happened? Had someone told him that she had, allegedly, died? Varric would have, she decided. Varric would have made sure of it. The two had never been on the best of terms but it wasn’t within Varric to let someone else make the notifications.

Had Merrill been able to reach Starkhaven? Was she able to talk to Sebastian to let him know she was not, in fact, dead? Not yet, anyway.

She was so lost in thought that she almost didn’t catch it. It was just a whiff but it was enough to break through her thoughts.

Smoke. It was smoke and that hopefully meant civilization. Or at least a form of it.

She stopped and focused her senses, trying to determine which direction it was coming from. Then she heard them. Two voices, indistinct but very much there, coming from somewhere to her left.

Taking careful steps, she approached the voices and could only pray that they were friendly. In her state she wasn’t entirely sure she would do well with unfriendly.

Their voices, two men she decided, became clearer as she approached. Neither had a Ferelden accent she realized but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Unless Ferelden had closed her borders, unlikely, anyone could roam here.

Coming closer she saw them. A human and an elf actually, each staring into the meager fire before them. Two horses stood nearby, nibbling on the sparse grass available to them. Éowyn pushed her hair from her face and hoped that she didn’t look too much like a ghoul that they would attack on sight. Maker knew that she felt like one.

“Uh, hi there.”

Both men shot to their feet, hands on their swords. Éowyn put up her hands, hoping they would realize that she meant no harm. Honestly, how could she? She had a fairly good idea of how she looked and she had a vague suspicion that she looked worse that she thought.

“Andraste’s tits, where the fuck did you come from?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Éowyn said, taking a step closer. Both drew their swords. Éowyn sighed. “Look, I don’t mean you any harm. Just hoping if you could spare a bit of bread and tell me where I am.”

“Howsit that you don’t know where you are?”

“That’s a long story. Come on fellas, it’s been a long morning already, can’t we just be friends?”

“Ain’t nobody here gonna be friends with the likes of you, Champion. You helped that bastard mage blow up the Chantry in Kirkwall. The most you’ll get here is the sharp end of my sword here,” said the man. From five feet away Éowyn could see his yellowing teeth and could only imagine that he smelled marginally better than she did. The elf had yet to say anything but his face was no less hostile.

Lowering her hands, Éowyn shook her head in disbelief. “You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse.”

“It’s going to get a whole lot worse for you bitch. I had family in Kirkwall that day. They died because of you.”

“I am sorry for what happened to your family. What happened in Kirkwall that day should never have I happened. I would have stopped it if I--.”

“Bullshit. You didn’t stop nothing, an’ now you sit pretty up in Starkhaven, whore to the would-be prince.”

“I would watch your mouth if I were you. I might take exception to what you say,” she said quietly as she slipped one of her knives out of her gauntlet, thankful yet again for her practice of carrying several sharp things on her person.

“I’ll say whatever I like. Me and Gren here, we got us a score to settle. Never thought I’d get lucky enough to do it though.”

“You’re welcome to try to settle the score as you call it but you’ll be sorely disappointed I’m afraid.”

“What? You gonna fight us off? You hear that Gren. This one thinks she can take the both o’ us.”

Gren said nothing, his eyes darting back and forth between Éowyn and the man. Despite his grim expression, she sensed a hesitation in the elf, like maybe he wasn’t completely on board with his friend’s plan. Never one to ignore an opportunity, Éowyn took a risk.

“Is this guy always this stupid Gren, or does it only come out on special occasions?”

“Don’t be trying to mess with his mind. Gren here’s loyal.”

“Loyal huh? Loyal enough to die for you? Cause I’m starting to get pissed off here and quickly getting to the point where I don’t care if you live.”

“What? You think you can take on both of us? You ain’t got nothing but that little pig sticker there.”

“This? You’d be surprised what this little pig sticker can do.” Éowyn flipped the knife in her hand before letting it fly. The blade sunk into his throat, blood spurting out of his mouth as he gurgled, pawing at the knife as he sunk to his knees. Tumbling forward, Éowyn moved around the man, pulling the knife out of his throat and shoving him face first into the mud. She spun back on Gren whose jaw had dropped, stunned by the ferocity of her attack. Not giving him time to recover, Éowyn swept her leg behind his knees, knocking him on his back. She was on him before he had time to recover, her knife cutting into his throat, a thin line of blood trailing down his neck.

“That idiot’s dead because he stupid. You’re not stupid, are you Gren?” When he remained silent, she pressed the knife harder into his skin. “Are you?”

Gren gave the slightest shake of his head, too afraid to move more less the knife dig deeper into his neck.

“That’s good, Gren, because I’ve had one shitty day, I think it’s been a day anyway, and all I want is to get home. Now, where the fuck am I?”

“Fre- Free Marches. Just south of the Planasene Forest.”

Éowyn inhaled sharply. Could she really be that close to home? It was too much to hope.

“You had better not be fucking with me Gren, because I will be very unhappy with you if you are.”

“No, it’s true. We’re about three days out from Kirkwall. You just have to head east.”

Éowyn sat back on her haunches, absentmindedly wiping off the blood on her knife on Gren’s tunic. Three days from Kirkwall. Besides a quick stop on her way to Crestwood, she hadn’t been back to Kirkwall since she left it nearly four years ago and she didn’t relish the thought of going back. If some moron in the middle of nowhere could recognize her after all these years, what would the people who still lived there do?

“I’m taking one of those horses Gren. Do you have a problem with that?”

Gren shook his head, still too scared to really speak. Éowyn realized that she must look like a wild thing and her vicious attack on his friend did nothing to dispel the belief that she was crazy. At the moment however, she really didn’t care.

Standing up she walked over to the man’s corpse. Blood pooled on the ground around his head, turning the grey mud red. She kicked him hard in the ribs.

“That’s for calling me a whore. Asshole.” Turning back to Gren she saw the elf sitting up, his hand reaching for his sword. “I really thought you were smarter than this Gren. I have no quarrel with you. I just want to go home.”

Gren snatched his hand away from his sword as if it had burned him. It would have been funny if the situation weren’t as it was.

Éowyn stared at the horse, suddenly drained of energy. The adrenaline spurt had quickly worn off and it was all she could do to stay on her feet.

“This his horse?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at Gren. The elf bobbed his head vigorously. Éowyn bent down, picking up the man’s sword. She tested its weight and realized that beggars couldn’t be choosers before inserting it into the bedroll that was tied behind the horse’s saddle. Checking the saddle bag she found a wineskin and a couple of lumpy pieces of hardtack and some dried meat. She took several swallows of wine before taking a couple small bites of the dried meat, gripping the saddle with her free hand. Her stomach almost rejected the offering but through sheer will she kept it down.

A question suddenly popped into her head. Looking back at Gren she saw him still sitting in the mud, his eyes skittish. Éowyn sighed. She didn’t like being a bully.

“Just how did this asshole know who I am?”

“Seymour was a Templar initiate. He used to stand guard in the Chantry. Said he saw you there a lot, said you were full of yourself.”

Éowyn snorted. Full of herself. Sounded like something her mother would have said to her. Shaking it off she gripped the horse’s saddle and hoisted herself up onto the animal. It danced to the side before she was able to calm it.

“Wait. What am I supposed to do? You just going to leave me out here by myself?” Gren had gained his feet by now but smartly left his sword where it lay.

“You’re a big boy, Gren, I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Éoywn paused as she looked at him. He looked capable enough, capable when he wasn’t shitting his pants. “You do know there’s a war going on, right Gren?”

“We’ve heard whispers about it. Holes in the sky, demons everywhere.”

“It’s more than just demons. If you really want to make a difference, go to the Inquisition. Their base is in the Frostbacks. They’ll take you in, find a place for you. They need all the help they can get.”

“If they need all the help they can get why aren’t you helping them?”

Éowyn snorted. “I already gave my life once for the Inquisition. They don’t get another one. Now I’m going home.


	4. Chapter 4

The three days that Gren had told her it would take to get to Kirkwall ended up being more than a week. It was slow going through the Planasene Forest and more than once she found herself turned around. With the trees blocking out the sun it was sometimes hard to tell which direction she was going in.

Other than some excitement one night with a particularly persistent wolf intent on making her its next meal, the journey to Kirkwall was mostly uneventful. The fact that the only thing that tried to attack her was the one beast worried her. With rifts opening all across Thedas, there should be demons everywhere but the last time she had seen a demon was when she was in the Fade. She was grateful that she didn’t have to fight any but it made her nervous.

That first night after her encounter with the ill-fated Seymour and Gren she had risked taking off her armor to see just what damage her encounter in the Fade had left. A large gash cut into her left side and was still weeping blood. She did the best she could to bind the wound with some questionable looking bandages she found in Seymour’s pack. Unfortunately Seymour hadn’t had any elfroot in his pack and this area of the forest was unnaturally barren of the weed.

It was a sure bet that at least two of her ribs were cracked and that she had a minor concussion from the way her head kept pounding. She had lost one day completely when she couldn’t move without the world blurring around her. That was when fear really started to grip her. She was so close to getting home and now she felt like Death was actively trying to take her instead of just flirting.

It was mid-morning when she could see the city walls in the distance and she nearly broke down at the sight. Exhaustion in many forms washed over her; hunger had gnawed a hole in her and she was running a fever. The horse wasn’t doing much better. Seymour hadn’t taken the best care of it and the last week hadn’t done the poor creature any favors. Éowyn was sure that the two of them made quite a sight, like something from a nightmare. Children would surely run screaming upon seeing them.

They plodded through Kirkwall’s south gate, the guards there eyeing her warily, hands on their swords but she made it through unmolested and found herself in Lowtown. It hadn’t changed much in the last four years but there were buildings where none had stood before and empty areas where once homes had stood. Many of the buildings had suffered fire damage in what was now called the Kirkwall Rebellion. She knew that entire areas of the slums were completely lost and even if she'd had the energy, she didn’t have the heart to see if The Hanged Man still stood. There were some things that one was just better off not knowing.

Horses weren’t a common sight on Kirkwall’s streets, so her passage was noticed by many. Some people gaped at her at she moved through the streets up to Hightown, others scurried out of the way, as if they were afraid if they met her eyes she would curse them.

Hightown had experienced its fair share of damage as well. Whatever hideous concoction Anders had created to blow up the Chantry had affected most of Hightown as well. She had memories of picking her way through the rubble after the fight with Meredith in the Gallows. In retrospect it was amazing that the death toll wasn’t higher. The entire damned city had nearly burned and there was a small part of her that wished that it had. Kirkwall had taken so much from her. At the same time, however, it had given her much. It had given her a family. They may have been weird and a little bit broken, but they were hers.

The midday sun beat down on her as she neared the Viscount’s Keep. It seemed a bit ridiculous to continue calling it that seeing as Kirkwall hadn’t had a Viscount since the Arishok had seen fit to remove Viscount Dumar’s head from his body. Seneschal Bran mostly ran the city now and she didn’t envy him the task. They had threatened to make her Viscount before the rebellion and she had balked so hard at that she had almost returned to Ferelden.

Dismounting, she stood there for a moment and stared up at the Keep. How many times had she walked up those steps on one errand or another. Too many.

Patting the horse on the neck, she whispered, “Stay here, okay. We may need to make a quick getaway depending on who’s in there.” The horse nickered softly as if in agreement and she stroked its neck again. The beast deserved a whole bushel of apples for getting her here in one piece.

She took the steps carefully, each bruise, strained muscle, and broken bone making their presence known loud and clear. She was forced to stop twice on her way up and not once did any of the people around her stop to help her. In fact they kept their distance. One of the noble ladies actually squeaked as she passed by, her hand covering her mouth and her eyes widening with fear. Éowyn was sorely tempted to snarl at her just to watch to the woman run away in terror but she restrained herself to a glare.

The doors were shut and refused to budge when she tried to open it. Her left arm had pretty much become useless and her right was only marginally better. Swallowing tears she tugged on it again and managed to crack it open enough to squeeze through. The main hall was blessedly cool; the large stone walls helping to keep the heat out.

People milled around the main hall, standing in small groups gossiping while they waited for an audience with Seneschal Bran. A small smile graced her face at the thought that people were endlessly harassing the man in her place. Small favors and all that.

“Hawke? Hawke, is that you?”

Éowyn looked up to find Donnic standing just a few feet away, his face blank with shock.

“The one and only, Donnic. Is Aveline here by chance?” she asked, marveling at how even her voice sounded.

“Yes, she is, but you look as if you could use a healer, not the Guard Captain. Maker’s breath, what happened to you? We heard you were dead.” He stepped closer, placing a steadying hand on her somewhat good shoulder.

“That is a long story, Donnic. Let’s just say I managed to crawl out of the abyss. And I promise that I’ll see a healer. Just need to see Aveline first.”

“She’s in a meeting but I’m sure they won’t mind you interrupting. I’ll take you to them.”

Donnic’s words barely registered as he led them up the stairs to the guard barracks. By the time they made it down to Aveline’s office nearly all of her energy was spent and she found herself leaning heavily on Donnic’s arm. They stopped in front of Aveline’s door, she could hear voices inside, arguing loudly but their words were indistinct.

“Sounds like someone’s in trouble.”

“Ah, not exactly.”

Éowyn laid a hand on Donnic’s arm, looking up at him with a grateful smile.

“Donnic, thank you for getting me down here but I’d like to go in on my own steam. I have a reputation to uphold after all.”

Donnic merely shook his head. “What is it with you Fereldans and your pride? You can barely walk Hawke. You’re lucky I don’t carry you in.”

“Just try it,” she said weakly even as she tried to straighten herself. “Donnic, there’s a horse standing at the base of the steps who could use a good rubbing down and several apples. I don’t suppose--.”

“Consider it done. Hawke,” he paused. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“You and me both, Donnic,” she answered and then turned to the door and placed a hand on it. The door swung open slowly, the voices within becoming distinct and familiar.

“You’re mad if you think this plan will work. She wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“We need closure, Aveline. Going to Skyhold is the logical choice. I can’t not go.”

“And what about Starkhaven? After all the time you spent working to reclaim it are you just going to abandon it?”

“I’ve left Gideon in charge. He knows what to do.”

“Gideon will never thank you for that, you know. He hates bureaucracy.”

The two people in the room turned toward her. Both of them stared at her as if they couldn’t quite believe what they saw. Aveline let out a huge breath as if someone had punched her in the stomach and braced her hands on her desk. She took in a shaky breath before looking up again. Her friend’s face was drawn and tired but it was nothing compared to how Sebastian looked. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in weeks. His normally tidy hair was ruffled as if he had run his hands through it too many times to count. There were lines of grief etched into his face and she wanted nothing more than to smooth them away.

“I promise I’m not a ghost. I’m flesh and blood. Very much so.” Her words fell flat as they both continued to stare at her, transfixed by the sight of her. Her own vision swam before her until she was seeing double and her vision began to spin again. It would seem that she had reached the end of her endurance. “I, uh, I think I’m going to need a healer here.”

Her hand slipped on the door as she collapsed. Just before she passed out she heard Sebastian calling her name as his arms wrapped around her.

~~~

A nightingale’s song woke her. She could feel cool sheets covering her and a soft bed underneath her. When she shifted slightly in the bed her body protested and she let out a soft moan. She was really tired of being in pain.

“You should go back to sleep. You need rest.”

“That’s not what you said earlier,” she told him without opening her eyes. She was afraid if she opened her eyes it wouldn’t be true. That if she opened her eyes she’d still be out in that bog, or in the forest, or worse yet, still in the Fade.

“What?”

“That’s right, that was a dream. I’m not dreaming now, am I?” Éowyn dared to open her eyes. Sebastian was sitting at her bedside, his large rough hands covering hers. At her words what could only be described as a small sob escaped him.

“No, _mo ghrá_ , you are not dreaming.”

“Good, because dreams shouldn’t hurt this much.”

“I’ll get the healer.”

“No! I don’t need the healer, not just yet.”

“Éowyn, I don’t think you quite understand just how badly you are hurt. It’s as bad as when you fought the Arishok. Probably worse.”

“I think I have a pretty good handle on my injuries, Sebastian Vael. Don’t baby me.”

“At the moment I don’t think you can stop me. Here, at least take some elfroot potion if you won’t let me get the healer.”

Éowyn sat up, or tried to anyway, to take the potion Sebastian offered her, but found that she was too weak to do even that. Sebastian put an arm under her shoulders to leverage her up as he held the cup to her lips. She took a couple of swallows before pushing the cup away. Sebastian made to sit back in his chair but she grasped his hand to hold him in place. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, gently brushing against her knuckles. With his other hand he reached out, almost tentative, and caressed her cheek.

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered. “Varric told me you were dead.”

“He had every good reason to believe that. It was a close thing as it was. I probably should be dead.”

“Éowyn.”

“I’m serious, Sebastian. What happened, I can’t even explain it. I can’t even begin to know how to do so.”

“Varric explained what he could when he came to tell me. That was over a month ago. Éowyn, where have you been?”

“A month? That’s… that’s not possible. I couldn’t have been in there that long.”

Sebastian brushed her hair off her face. “From what Merrill has said, time runs differently in the Fade.”

“Merrill? She found you then?”

“Aye, a few weeks ago. She’s what convinced me that I needed to leave Starkhaven and go to Skyhold.”

“Going to Skyhold would serve no purpose, Sebastian. Why would you do that?”

“It would seem that both of us have an over-inflated sense of responsibility when it comes down to it. You, my dear, can cast no stones, not according to what Varric told me anyway.”

“And just what did that dwarf tell you?”

“That you all fell through a rift into the Fade. He said,” Sebastian paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “He said that you stayed behind so that the others could escape.”

“Varric said that, did he? Well, for once the dwarf wasn’t exaggerating.”

“Why? Why did you do it?”

“I was either me or Stroud and the Grey Wardens needed someone to lead them after what happened. It’s my fault Corypheus rose, Sebastian, I had to do it. The Inquisitor is the only one who can close the rifts. Without her, all of Thedas will fall to Corypheus.” Éowyn looked up into his eyes, praying that he would understand. “It was the only thing I could do to protect you and Meghan.”

“Oh, Éowyn. Why do you always take on so much?”

“You just said that I have an over-inflated sense of responsibility. This shouldn’t surprise you. Corypheus was my fault. I had to do it.”

Sebastian sighed, shaking his head ruefully. “Corypheus is not your fault, Éowyn.”

Éowyn sighed, closing her eyes briefly. When she opened them again she found Sebastian staring at her, a combination of love and frustration spread across his face. She couldn’t help but smile. She had seen that expression on his face hundreds, no thousands of times in the time they had known each other.

“Where are we?”

“The Amell estate. We brought you here after you collapsed.”

Éowyn snorted in disbelief. “You mean they didn’t burn it down after what happened?”

“Oh, I hear that Knight-Captain Cullen and our very own Guard Captain stopped that from happening.”

“Did they now? Huh,” she paused. “Where is Meghan?”

“Asleep. She wanted to stay here with you until you woke but I made her go to bed.”

“Made her? You mean you bribed her.”

“I may or may not have promised her a raspberry tart for breakfast.”

“Do I get one too if I promise to go to sleep?”

“You can have all the tarts in the world as long as you never leave us again.”

“I can safely say that I have no intention of leaving either of you. I’ve done enough adventuring to last me a lifetime.”

“I should hope so.”

“Don’t think that this means I’ll become some pasty noble’s wife though.”

“If I thought that would happen I’d be forced to divorce you.”

“You’d be welcome to try that, Sebastian Vael. You’re stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He smiled softly, leaning down to kiss her. He tasted like elderberries and spice. He tasted like home.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow-up to The Parting Glass. I felt so bad for sacrificing Hawke that I had to fix my own fic and the Dragon Age Big Bang this year gave me the push to do it.
> 
> The fabulous denvermaxx on tumblr created the art for this story. You can see it [here](http://denvermaxx.tumblr.com/post/119576741963/out-of-the-abyss-my-entry-for-the-dabb-2015).


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